Those black tendrils—something about them sent a razor-sharp chill up my spine. They looked like something pulled from the depths of my nightmares.
I shot off the bed, pulse quickening, pillow in hand like a shield.
The Brownie let out a yelp. In a blink, it hauled ass back to its little mouse hole, disappearing like it’d been exterminated.
What the hell was going on?
Maybe I was too exhausted because all survival instincts I’d practiced today fell into a coma.
The shadow moved again, reaching up like a hand. Itgently placed a folded slip of paper on my bedside table. An ominous, yet delicate offering. It then retreated, gone as quickly as it came.
Well, that was creepy . . .
I hesitated before forcing my hand to grab the paper, unfolding it. Four lines:
Training tomorrow.
Sundown.
Emerald Falls.
-Pogue
Seriously?Asshole!
Of course, the tentacles of death were familiar—they werehisshadows. And apparently, he had his own demonic postal service set up.
He couldn’t, ya know, deliver it like a normal person? Instead, had to send me some disturbing shadow courier. I was going to addbreaking and enteringto the ever-growing list of reasons why he was officially insufferable.
“Shady prick,” I cursed, then slammed my head back into the pillow, hoping the force would knock me clean out, skipping straight to unconsciousness.
“Good luckto all of you! Have a great break!” I dismissed the class with a wave.
Ugh. And good luck to me as well . . .
It was the final week at the Institute, so my schedule and mind were both out of sorts. I had the honors of taking examsandgrading them.
Sunlight spilled through the upper windows, glittering across the stone floor as I glanced around.
This classroom had become my happy place. I’d miss it, at least until the academic break was over. Teaching, even just for one class, had been unexpectedly fun. Or some goodcraic, as the students would often say.
Usually I was the quiet, faceless body in the crowd. The student version of me was a wallflower specter in the back row. But here, I was front and center, forced to wear every insecurity like an ugly sweater at a party. But after a while, you start to get over it. So what if they stare the whole class? So what if no one laughs at my dumb jokes? In the end, I was still here . . . stillme. So I learned to be numb to the intrusive thoughts and doubts. Because, may as well enjoy it a little, right?
Shuffling echoed across the dome as students gathered their belongings. After a few students stopped over to say goodbye, I shoved my papers into my bag. The room quieted enough to cue my exit.
“I have to say,” Finley drawled, the sound snapping my head up. That smug grin overtook his face. “Not to be cocky or anything—but I think I aced that.” He leaned forward, eyes dropping to my mouth. “I’ve had an insane level of focus this semester when it comes to those lips—and anything that falls out of them.” A shadow of dimple drew in.
Heat prickled up my cheeks like a traitor.
Get your shit together.
Finley glanced over his shoulder, scanning the room to ensure we were the last ones left. Then, he rounded the table and placed a hand beneath my chin, tilting it up.
Adorable. Why’d he have to be so goddamn adorable?
I had a sudden, irrational urge to mess up that perfectly combed blonde hair. His casual outfit—jeans and a crewneck sweater—didn’t help. Dressing down only seemed to enhance his appeal. And before I could gain even a shred of control over my own body, his mouth found mine. So warm and inviting. Dangerously easy to fall into.
The kiss was novocaine, numbing all the reasons I should end it.
